


i once was blind (but now i see)

by sagexbrush



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Feels, because i'm bff trash, post season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 21:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4538631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagexbrush/pseuds/sagexbrush
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What –“<br/>	“Dance with me.” <br/>	“Dance?” to say Skye looked surprised was perhaps an understatement, her eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head and her mouth had gone slightly agape.<br/>.<br/>(or Fitz tries to cheer Skye up. Based off of a scene in a HP movie.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i once was blind (but now i see)

**Author's Note:**

> because i seriously love the scene where harry and hermione dance in the movie (but don't worry i still like the books way more) and i was listening to the song and i thought of skye and fitz and age

(because in case you needed reminding of this particular scene where they're being adorable best friends.) 

They’re in an old motel (the kind you only see in horror movies) lying stretched out on the single king sized bed, their feet entwined and their eyes both staring at the same crack in the ceiling.

            If Jemma was here, she probably would have brought up the _Doctor Who_ crack story, and Skye would have pretended to be scared and Fitz would have pointed out all the _scientific_ things wrong with that particular plot line, while Jemma argued amicably about Rory or something.

            She wasn’t here.

            The air is filled with a sort of heavy silence, the kind you can feel weighing down on your windpipes and settling on your chest until it’s rather hard to breathe.

            “Why did you come with me?” the question is out of his mouth before he has the chance to stop it, and Skye is turning to look at him, her eyes concerned and her mouth puckering.

            “You were there for me when no one else was,” she says simply, “I’m just returning the favor.”

            He supposes that in a twisted way, it makes sense.

            “So you’re like the rest,” is what he gets from it anyways, “You don’t think she’s alive.”

            “Of course I do,” she says, but he can tell that she’s lying.

            They lay there in silence for a bit more, mostly because neither of them are the same and he doesn’t know if he really knows how to talk to _anyone_ anymore – let alone Skye, who’s always been hard to talk to.

            “Do you know,” she speaks up, and there’s something hovering on the edge of her voice, “That I really – well I just wanted to say thank you for – for helping me after I changed.”

            “No problem.”

            He doesn’t say that it’s because _no one_ was there for him when he changed, and he hadn’t wanted Skye to go through the same thing without _someone_.

            “You really love her.” It’s not a question.

            He scoffs. “Of course I do.”

            (It’s the only answer that matters, in the end.)

            “I wish someone loved me like that,” she says suddenly, her voice dark. He knows at once she’s thinking of Ward, and part of him is longing to have some magic eraser to wipe that man from their minds. (it would really help things.)

            “I don’t love you quite like that,” he says, because it’s the only thing he can think to say, “But you’re like my sister Skye.”

            Skye flips onto her stomach and turns to look down at him, her neatly shorn hair falling in front of her eyes.

            “Did you know that I loved him?” even though it’s phrased like a question, he doesn’t think it really is.

            “Yeah.”

            She sighs a deep long sigh, like she thought he was going to _hate_ her for loving him, for feeling any attraction towards the man who ruined their lives.

            “Do you really think you can find her Fitz?”

            _You_ not _we_.

            “Yeah,” he says, “Yeah I do. Because we’re the good guys – right? And the good guys _always_ win in the end.”

            “We didn’t win,” she whispers to him, her eyes so very faraway and so very dark, “There are no winners. Just survivors.”

            “We’re _not_ in the Hunger Games Skye.”

            “Or are we?” she says softly, her eyes back to staring at the crack, “All we do is get split apart again and again.” 

            He gets to his feet (slightly clumsily because he’s _Fitz_ ) and holds out his hand down to where she’s stretched out.

            She glances up at him, and he watches the confusion flit across her face.

            “What –“

            “Dance with me.”

            “ _Dance_?” to say Skye looked surprised was perhaps an understatement, her eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head and her mouth had gone slightly agape.

            Back on the Bus, when everything was _far_ simpler, Jemma had once let it slip that he could actually _dance_. Skye had bugged him about showing her ‘his moves’ until the day Hydra took over.

            “Isn’t it like your greatest wish or something?” he asks her, and he’s trying for lightness instead of bitter.

            She warily takes his hand, letting him help her off the bed and onto the creaky motel floor.

            “There’s no music.”

            “Who said I need music to show you up with my skills?” he asks her, and she grins, the first sign of a happy emotion he’s seen on her face in _ages_.

            He pulls her away from the bed and begins to tug her arms back and forth, forcing her to sway to the music with him. She’s surprisingly quick to get what’s happening, and he twirls her around, her hair whipping against his face. She’s the one to twirl him next, and it doesn’t take long before they’re both laughing.

            “You’re not a good dancer,” she protests as he steps on her feet, and in retaliation he spins her into his arm maybe a little bit _too_ hard. It doesn’t take long before they’re not only doing (well whatever they had been doing) and trying all sorts of different dance moves – from some terrible hip hop to the YMCA dance – and they’re laughing like they might never stop.

            As Skye twirls him particularly forcefully (he blames her powers) the thought of Jemma occurs to him.

            She would be happy to see Skye smiling, to see him smiling, even though she was god knows where and everything had gone to hell – even though they had both changed to the point where the Hacker in her van and the engineer with a knack of being socially awkward didn’t even exist anymore.

            Eventually their dancing slows down and Skye merely rests her head on his shoulder, and he presses his face into her hair.

            “I miss her,” she whispers.

            “Me too,” he says, “But we’ll find her, because that’s what we do.”


End file.
